November 2008
6 posts
9.3.08
I always loved rainy days. On those days, I seemed completely content being by myself, as I smoothly sipped my mocha in between puddles, hiding beneath my damp hood and moist waves of hair tangled against my face. I would watch people as they passed, wondering what that one girl was giggling about and how long ago that pining friend beside her had decided that he secretly loved her, and...
when they said everything would work out in the...
so this dorky obsession of mine is to carry around a composition book with me everywhere. this is something short i wrote a while back.
9.10.08
She cut her hair that day, standing before the mirror, watching as a lock of brown landed on the countertop, blowing lightly, then lying still. She felt better, knowing that she could, for once, experience loss without feeling pain. She wondered why...
